


the story of the three thousand world (ashes.)

by piangei



Series: the thelma series [2]
Category: Evillious Chronicles, Vocaloid
Genre: Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Human/Vampire Relationship, Multiple Crossovers, Puppets, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22319194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piangei/pseuds/piangei
Summary: ashes to ashes. dust to dust.In a long sleep of a thousand years, the vampire Requiem has been awakened by the Master of the Graveyard. Becoming her slave as a debt, will he still seek death?Crossovers: Evil Food Eater Conchita, Ashes to Ashes, Nazotoki/Nazokake, Sister Sect Rogue, Death Should Not Have Taken Thee!, Cantarella, Cendrillion, and more.
Relationships: Kaito/Banica Conchita, Kaito/Meiko (Vocaloid)
Series: the thelma series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605232
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The second part of _the thelma series,_ direct sequel to _hotel._
> 
> above crossovers are not limited to other songs that I'm too lazy to write....(Bad? I could forget?) Most of the text in this chapter are spotty and unclear, but thousand year sleep problems sorry Kaito

_Abyss. Defile. Pleasure. Being devoured in._

_Give. Blind myself. Play. The sounds of ruin._

_Gathers. Accumulates. Overlaps._

_The last song. Let it sound._

_Sing._

_Say._

**"Go back."**

In this steel forest, there is no warmth. The sky has always been blood-red.

Within the stage of a castle that is arched over by a large, moving gear, he sleeps. Years wore thin on his face. He gave himself to an eternal sleep since the beginning of time, and he dreams of brass things. There is a brass sheep in his dreams, and he has a brass heart.

Infinite mirror on the three-thousand world.

Maybe he hoped that something, someday would change. It was a hope that never came, since he yearned for the embrace of the dust. He couldn't die. But solitude is painful, and it entangles his brass heart.

There is a graveyard and many gears, and his marionettes creak the littlest bit. There is a rustle of cloth, an imagined crimson, quiet. Silence settles in for a long while, until he hears it.

_Ting!_

A ring of a bell that would awaken a thousand year sleep.

_Ting!_

Again. Let it ring, the bell that would awaken a thousand year sleep.

It stops, and he feels a gloved hand on his, as his lips are kissed.

A woman in red, according to prophecy.


	2. chapter 2

Two destinies have become one in the three-thousand world.

The beast, the one who is the _King of Blood,_ Requiem, is a vampire who is highly dreaded from worlds beyond and the kingdoms within. He had long sought after a meaningful repose, and greatly agonized over not being able to be like the humans who belonged to nature. Before his success in finally being able to surrender himself fully to a seemingly eternal sleep only attainable after a great tragedy, he held sway over an entire population of vampires, being a sire to many that depended on him.

To the woman dressed in scarlet, the _Master of the Graveyard,_ Conchita, this is all she knows about the ‘slave’ that she was sent to awaken. She understood that in her maiden journey far from the worlds, she will have to seek to make sacrifices if she was to get her vengeance, even if she already felt that she had sacrificed more than enough.

“Oh, I thought for sure that you would stay dead,” the scarlet woman said, her voice clearer than the creaking sounds of the awakening gears. “You scared me.”

The blue-haired beast seated on the cold throne opened his eyes. It hurt despite the everlasting night, and before him looms a woman indeed, the quiet sounds of her rustling clothes puzzling him in the darkened red. If there ever was a possibility where he was to wake on his own, he wouldn’t have expected having someone else’s eyes set on him from where they sat, training on him with wonderment as if he was nothing but a spectacle.

“I thought at first that it seemed to be too weird to be true,” the woman went on much to the beast’s confusion. Her manner of speech effectively baffled him, and her lack of fear added fuel to the fire. “See, I didn’t think that you’d wake up if I rang the bell. But I rang it anyways, and you’re awake now.”

He didn’t hear her get up as she drew herself to her full height, the crimson draperies of her gown encouraging an imposing figure along with the way her gloved hands rested on the handle of her parasol. Probably, he imagined the phantom to his lips as a product of going long without contact to himself. The remnants of slumber clung to his eyes, the cracked gaps below them uncomfortably creaking like a breaking bridge.

In the cold night, the unknown woman brought her hand to her chin as if in thought, looking away at the scenery and then looking back at him. “Just to be sure….you’re the one the bell pillar was talking about, right?”

The beast opened his mouth, his voice coming out like a slow croak.

“——Who…..are……you…..?”

Even his speech has degraded so much in the passage of time, but still, the woman gave him a courteous smile. If she was mocking him in her thoughts, it surely didn’t show.

“I was sent here to ring the bell to wake you up,” was her disinterested reply, probably because she repeated what she did a few minutes prior too many times.

It didn’t answer all of his questions, but he was awake. He was _awake,_ and that was the most _horrible_ part of the situation. He looked up at her as if she was the gatekeeper of hell denying him entrance, or rather, encouraging him to step inside past the doors into an eternal damnation where he will be forever waking, forever aware. Humans can have the luxury of dying and returning to dust in the natural order that has been set onto them by a higher power, but one such as him…..

One such as _him_ can never hope for an eternal repose!

And now, she woke him up.

 _“…..How dare you….?”_ were his first proper, confident words after a thousand years of upkeeping an impossible unconsciousness. Brass fingers slowly curled into angry fists, and the cracks below his eyes chipped away as his brows furrowed in a simmering, rising fury. “Lowly woman, how dare you…..!”

The woman’s lips, painted as red as her gown parted open in surprise.

The beast yelled, his voice charging with hatred and uncontrollable wrath. “How dare you? _How dare you!_ How dare you _awaken_ me?!”

The three-thousand world didn’t spare mercy for him after all with the appearance of this scarlet woman, and he lunged his brass hand straight for her decorated throat. The black lace choker that adorned the woman’s neck became an imagined line for a cross-cut, a decapitation waiting to happen as he imagined his hard fingers squeezing against the soft flesh and the emerald pendant that hung from it. He expected her to writhe and to beg for his forgiveness like the rest of what he’s been offered before, because the blood flowing through in her veins is warm and real, waiting for his consumption.

But the impossible happened, because fast as he was in reaching for her neck, she grabbed his wrist and held on firmly with a chillingly cold frown on her face.

“Hey, don’t you think you’re being rude?”

The beast couldn’t believe his eyes. No one has ever risen up against him, defied him like that before, and the woman didn’t even flinch or startle in fear at the distance of his talons being horrifyingly close to her neck. Even through the brass covers of his hand, he can feel the warmth of her human flesh and blood from his wrist, only getting warmer as her grip tightened.

“Unhand…..! Unhand me…..!” he spat, snarling in his crazed frenzy. “UNHAND ME!”

“I’d be stupid to do that,” the woman said, arching an eyebrow. “What kind of idiot will unhand you when you’re trying to kill them?”

“You have disturbed my slumber!” the beast agonized despairingly, his other hand gripping the arm-rest of his throne as he raved. “Why….Why would you ring the bell? Why would you do such a thing?”

In response to his pitiful display of absolute grief, the woman straightforwardly said without mercy:

“The bell pillar said that whoever can wake you up will own you, and I happen to be in need of a slave.”

Requiem froze. It was only then that he quickly remembered who he was, a semblance of his identity and self. He couldn’t cry. It was impossible for him, but how he longed to.

“A _slave….?!”_ Requiem croaked pathetically, his throat sticky and choked up as he looked at her in horrified disbelief. “A slave….to _you…..?!”_

“Yes,” said the woman before pulling the knot to her choker off with one hand, carefully keeping it in her gown’s pocket. “And you must be hungry after a whole thousand years of sleeping,” she smirked, “so you won’t have a choice but to sign this contract willingly.”

“What…..?! N-No.....! NO!”

He shook violently, eyes transfixed on her fair, exposed neck. The smell of the blood and the life pulsing through and inside her is near impossible to resist after a thousand years of hibernation, and though enticed and wanting, his better judgment injected a good dose of terror within his scared frame.

The woman taunted him further, craning the side of her neck up. “Come on. Don’t you want it?” She tapped a manicured nail on her skin, trailing the outline from the top down. “Fufufu…..any way you think about it, it’s no use. This will be the only thing you’ll be able to feed on from now on.”

Requiem wrenched his hand away from her grip, but he made no move to inch further away from her. His mismatched eyes only saw the red that has been lost to him for so many years, and his fangs jutted out instinctively as they haven’t sunk into anything worthwhile since his inactivity. He has never felt so much fear and terror for a human before since he remembered the full details of his conditional request vividly and now, she’s exploiting those details to the fullest.

To complete the contract of servitude, he would have to feed from her. And he was hungry. And she was the only one left in the entire Gear Graveyard…..no, maybe even the whole three-thousand world, there for him.

He couldn’t turn her. No matter how intoxicating her blood smells….has his bloodlust always been this strong? Has human blood always seemed so paralyzing when a vampire hasn’t fed for so long? Or was it just her, being an extraordinary kind of human to be able to set foot in the graveyard? But he couldn’t turn her. He couldn’t make her a young vampire under his authority as an aged sire, or else she would turn on him and _kill him_ where he sat. The only other option was to _drain her._

Requiem couldn’t smell anything else but the fresh pull of her blood. And like all predators, he lunged in for the kill.

“—— _ah….?”_

Yes. She has been bitten. The woman craned her neck to look beside her, and when the pain registered fully, she let out a blood-curdling scream.

“Ah….. _ahh_ …..AAAAAAH! **_AAAAAHAAAGH!!!”_**

The Master of the Graveyard has eaten all of the things in the world, but she hasn’t had the experience of having someone else eat her instead. Her mouth has only eaten two things physically along with typical edible food, but it felt long ago as if she truly has eaten the pigs, the birds, the people, the cities, the towns, the ground and many more. The ultimate food at the time was herself, but she searched for more until the ends of the unknown worlds in the sailing of her ship.

The memories though are now gone to her, and now, she is no longer a demon feared. She is a normal human woman, and her blood is being sucked by a vampire king.

No, it’s more than that.

The side of her neck was being chewed on, and she was being eaten alive.

The sensations of being bitten and losing blood amidst the pain are nothing short of excruciating, and it wasn’t like what she read back on Earth. A vampire bite didn’t make her feel woozy and heady with pleasure and delirium, instead it felt as if she was being devoured with every bite, ripping apart the flesh at the side of her neck and the flaying veins until she was afraid that her skin would be mangled out.

No, she was certain that it had already been mangled. She could already see layers of bloodied flesh flaying from the corner of her eye.

The piercing noises that continually stabbed at her ears were of her own voice, screaming at the top of her lungs with the searing, burning pain.

But she couldn’t be scared now. This was the most important part of the contract. No matter how it made her want to die, she couldn’t die. If he was eating her alive, then as long as the contract is made through her blood…..

…..then her revenge will only just have begun.

Requiem’s manner of feeding was as beastly and barbaric as any starved vampire, but only after he’s been sated, full and deliriously drunk on the woman’s blood and remnants of flesh, he savored her taste at the tip of his tongue before opening his mismatched eyes to welcome the fresh air of reality again.

The sky was no longer blood red as the day of his first sleep. It turned into its natural color, the deep dark with the light of the full moon to guide the lost. The gears in the graveyard turned steadily, its sounds sinking into him like a peaceful metronome, and he felt himself regaining his warmth and color. If he had any before his long and sheltered sleep, he couldn’t remember it.

But there’s the woman in his arms, lifeless, and his brain ground into a halt.

As if he was burned, he pushed her away from his shoulder and held her to see just what he could’ve done. This woman was defenseless even though she taunted him earlier, and the scent of her blood was just so compelling that he made the ultimate mistake of losing control and giving in to the point where he could think of nothing but murder and sating himself. Even if he was starving for a thousand years, he should have had better control, better restraint…..

But when he saw her neck and her sleeping expression, he could only find fresh patches of blood and no wounds.

His fingers were no longer brittle, and when he touched his face, the cracks were completely gone, having been replaced by the smooth, human-like skin that he used to have before the great tragedy. His eyes, upon looking at the open throne room’s crystals, were back to its leveled blue hues, and it slowly, fully registered that what he did was an irreversible mistake.

The great Vampire King, Requiem…..has become a slave to a human woman for life.


End file.
